Page 132 of The Rancher's Secret Relationship

I try digging my heels in, but it’s like going up against a force of nature, and in mere moments, we’re standing in front of the mirror. A wicked smile curves over my husband’s lips as our reflection reveals my dismay.

“This should do, don’t you think?”

“No,” I answer right away. “It absolutelyshouldn'tdo—”

My words end in a gasp as he suddenly rips my blouse open, but this quickly turns into a moan as he yanks my bra down and starts kneading my breast from behind.

I want to look away, but I can’t.

The sight of him touching me is mortifyingly irresistible, and wetness starts pooling between my thighs as Flint slowly lifts the back of my dress, andaaah.

What is with this husband of mine that he just loves ripping my clothes?

And what is it with this heart of mine that it secretly loves the roughness of his—oh!

I can’t stop staring as he starts pounding into me from behind, and his fingers start playing with my swollen flesh.

“F-Flint...”

*“Don’t worry, love,”* my husband rasps out in promise. *“I’ll make sure to keep comforting you until you pass out.”*

The End

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